


One Foot in Front of the Other

by MightyAmphitrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventures on the other side of the galaxy, Bureaucracy, Cameos from sequel trilogy characters, Civil Unrest, F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Lots of sore feet, Offscreen character death, Regular folks on a difficult journey, Secret labs, disguises, friends in unexpected places, jail breaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyAmphitrite/pseuds/MightyAmphitrite
Summary: Kasha puts her quiet life on hold to find her missing brother, but quickly finds out that asking questions is only asking for trouble.Luckily, the guy in the next cell is sympathetic to her plight *and* good at picking locks.Will they be able to overcome every obstacle the galaxy can throw at them to get to the truth?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my friend beautifulglider, whose encouragement helped me bring this story to life.

Today’s cell was cramped and filthy, with water oozing from between chinks in the rock. Kasha sat on the floor in the driest corner, coiling and uncoiling her long dark hair just to have something to do with her hands. Today hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped, and tomorrow wasn’t looking any better.

“So what are _you_ in for?”

She sat bolt upright, hastily pinning up her hair and twisting around in search of the voice. Rising slowly to her feet, she took a closer look at the wall between her cell and the next. A jagged whole in the stone had been fitted with bars, behind which a pair of blue eyes watched her curiously.

 “Who are you supposed to be?” she asked softly, keeping an ear out for patrolling guards.

“My friends call me Trek.”

“So what should _I_ call you?”

“Funny.” He leaned closer, and she could just make out a face in the gloom. “You never answered my question.”

Stopping a good foot from the opening, Kasha crossed her arms and tried to look stern. “You could be a First Order spy.”

“Nah, they keep those in the next wing over.” His laughing eyes turned serious. “This is the ‘thieves and troublemakers’ wing, and from what I’ve heard, we won’t like what they have planned for us tomorrow.

“So,” he continued as her blood ran cold, “if you’re not from a local gang, I thought we might help each other get off this rock.”

“I’m not local,” she said quickly. “I have to-“ she bit back the words, willing herself to stay focused. “Do you have some sort of plan?”

Trek nodded. “I think they’re done patrolling for the night; last night they only came through once. If we can get two blocks south of here, we can blend into the night market crowd.”

“So why haven’t you left already?”

He shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes. And I felt bad leaving you down here.”

She narrowed her eyes at the face behind the bars. “I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.”

“ _Fine_ , and I need to get passage on the next transport out, and the man selling passes doesn’t like me very much. Are you in or what?”

Smoothing down her tunic, Kasha nodded and stood up straighter. “I’ll buy us both passes if you can get me out of this cell.”

Trek smiled, then disappeared from view. A pale hand slid through the bars, several shades lighter than Kasha’s own. Between two fingers he held a sturdy piece of wire.

“How good are you with locks?”

~~~

After several tense minutes, with murmured coaching from Trek, Kasha was able to unlock her cell door. With painstaking care, she slid the door open, willing the metal to be silent. When the opening was wide enough for her to squeeze through, she stepped out and pushed the door slowly closed. Frozen in the shadowy hallway, she listened for the guard’s footsteps, but the cell block was silent. She walked over to Trek’s cell, her rough cloth slippers making no sound against the stone floor.

Trek was waiting for her at the door, leaning against the bars to watch her progress.

“You’re awfully trusting,” Kasha murmured, her eyes flickering between his face and the lock. “If you’re so good with locks, why didn’t you just open _your_ door and-“ she paused, holding the wire up to the opening, as she saw him clearly for the first time. His left hand tapped impatiently at his side, and his right, with crooked fingers bruised nearly black, was cradled in a burlap sling.

“I told you this is where they stash thieves. And since your hands aren’t broken, you must be a troublemaker.” He huffed out a breath. “You gonna make trouble for me?”

She shook her head, eyes back on the lock. “Tell me what to do.” He walked her through the second lock, which was a lot easier to open from outside the cell. She helped him slide the door open; although nearly a head taller than she was, he was very thin, and only needed a small opening to escape. “Do you have any credits?” she asked, pushing the door gently back into place. “For the transport?”

He nodded, beckoning her to the left, a finger to his lips. She followed in silence; if there were any prisoners on the far end of the block, there was no need to wake them up. They spent several tense minutes slowly opening and closing doors, quietly climbing steps, and listening out for guards as they made their way back up to street level. When they’d nearly reached the entrance to the market jail, Kasha’s heart felt ready to burst, but their final task could be their hardest: leaving the building unseen.

“Maybe…” Trek shifted in place as they stood in the final hallway to the front room, thinking hard. A guard sat slumped behind a rickety desk, half asleep. “We could try to sneak past real quiet, to get to the door, but jumping him from behind might be-“

Kasha tapped his shoulder and pointed to a hinged window set in the wall to their right. “I bet we could fit through that.”

Trek peered around the corner at the sleeping guard, looked back at the window, and shrugged. “That works, too.”

~~~

They squeezed to the back of the crowded transport, sitting on the sacks of grain that were piled against the wall. Kasha took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the relief of being free again finally setting in and making her feel a hundred pounds lighter. Trek slumped down beside her, cradling his battered hand.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking. "So..."

"So you still haven't answered my question."

She stared at him. "We just escaped from jail and barely avoided a riot when this transport sold out," she said in a hushed voice. "And I'm supposed to remember everything you've said tonight?"

"You never told me why they nabbed you." He shrugged, but his eyes were serious. "If you're going to be my sidekick, I need to know your rap sheet."

Scoffing, she cut in, "Where have _you_ been? I got us out, and I got us on board. If anyone's a sidekick, it's you."

Trek rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his mouth. "You've got me there. So if I'm going to be kickin' it with you, I'd like to know what you did, and where we're going."

"You can go where you want from here, it doesn't matter to me," Kasha replied, glancing around at the other passengers as they settled in for the trip. "But if you really wanna know..." He leaned forward as she turned back to face him. "I was asking around-"

"Well, that was your first mistake," Trek jumped in, shaking his head. "Questions won't make you many friends on a planet like-"

"Will you let me finish?" She scowled; he nodded sheepishly. "I'm looking for my brother. He was a mechanic for a plastene manufacturer in this system, and when a rumor got around that his team was working with the Resistance, they all..." She paused, swallowed, and tried again. "They vanished. The company sent me a note with his final wages, saying they were 'restructuring the department' and that he'd left, but he would have told me first, I _know_ it." She sat back, waiting for his reaction.

Trek rubbed his good hand over his mouth, eyes focused on a point over her shoulder. "You know it was probably the First Order, right? If they even _suspect_ your brother, it won't end well for him."

She nodded. "I think he's being held somewhere, or- if I can find out what happened, if I can get to him, maybe I could-" she stopped again, willing herself to stay focused. Deep breaths. "I have to try."

His eyes returned to her face, and he nodded. "It won't be easy... but I've got nowhere else to be." He leaned forward again, his eyes lighting up; the bright energy she'd seen in the cell was back. "Where to next?"

~~~

“There’s a data bank here that stores information on the sector’s work force,” Kasha said as they made their way down a grimy gray street. The volcanoes on this moon had attracted miners for centuries, and their operations had left an unmovable layer of dirt on every surface. “Basic family stuff, plus job assignments, transfers, criminal records… that’s what I learned, before I got in trouble for asking around.”

Trek glanced around warily as they stepped up to a weathered stone building the same color as the road. “And they let anyone see these records? Are you just gonna walk right in and ask?”

She frowned at him. “Most of this stuff should be public. And I’m family.” She pulled her pouch necklace from her tunic and dug out a card. “I have one of his old ID’s as proof, see?”

He shrugged and shouldered open the door. Kasha didn’t blame him; the handle was _not_ something she wanted to touch with her hands.

They joined a line of flustered-looking citizens and settled in to wait; apparently the updated tax code was causing a lot of confusion. Kasha watched the crowd for a few minutes before looking back at Trek, who was absently rubbing his hurt arm. What she could see of his hand looked somehow worse than it had hours earlier.

“You should probably get that looked at.”

He glanced down at her for a second before continuing to scan the crowd. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt if I hold it still.”

“Yeah, but those broken bones…” Trying for humor, she added, “Any sidekick of mine needs to be in good shape.” His face stayed blank as he pointedly watched the far side of the room. She sighed. “Look, maybe there’s a medic around who could-“

“That’s time you don’t have,” he bit out, “and I’m not exactly rolling in credits. Just forget it.”

Her face hardened. “I was only trying to help. Obviously you can take care of yourself.”

He slumped a little at that, but still wouldn’t meet her eyes. They inched forward with the line for several awkward minutes before Trek sighed, raking the fingers of his good hand through his hair.

“Kasha-“

“Next!”

Kasha darted forward before someone else could jump ahead. “Yes, hello, I’m trying to get some information about my brother’s work assignment,” she said cheerfully as Trek trudged up behind her. “I’d really like to send him a care package, but I want to make sure it goes to the right place.” The story had worked well for her thus far, and the creature behind the counter didn’t bat an eye (and it had several) as she held up her brother’s old trade school ID. She focused on the card as the clerk began a search; Theo smiled back at her, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter, as if he’d just heard a joke that he couldn’t wait to share.

“There’s been a merger,” the clerk said blandly, and told her where the data would have been transferred. It rattled off a name, saying, “They represent the larger corporation’s employee services in the sector, and would be your liaison for staff and family services. Anything else?”

Shaking her head, Kasha stepped out of line, repeating the name back to herself and thinking hard. “Help me remember that, okay?”

Trek nodded. “Got it. Should we find a transport out now, or stop for-“

There was a commotion in a line to their left; two young women had begun raising their voices and gesturing wildly, but the clerk only shook its head and shooed them away.

Kasha turned toward the entrance. “Let’s grab something to eat, then figure out a ride.”

But before they made it to the door, several local guards strode in, heading straight for the girls, who weren’t backing down.

The guard at the front shouted for silence as his compatriots dragged the girls out of line and bound their wrists with thick fibrous cords. “Wo do not tolerate strange travelers disturbing our peace,” he said stiffly as they headed for the doors. Catching sight of Kasha, he tipped his head toward her, adding, “That one, too.”

Kasha stepped back, but a guard appeared at her side and bound her arms before she could blink. Trek was brushed aside; she heard him yell, “She wasn’t doing anything!” as she was nearly lifted off her feet. Stumbling after the guard, she gasped out, “Sir, I only came to ask-“

“Be silent,” the guard rumbled, giving her a rough shake. “We can’t risk any more trouble.”

She caught one last glimpse of Trek’s face, pale and scared, before they were back on the street and the last guard pulled the door shut.

* * *

 

Today’s cell was blindingly white, with a tidy cot in the corner and not much else. The walls between Kasha’s cell and those of the other two new prisoners were sturdy and transparent, and the doors that almost seamlessly sealed them inside were secured with an electronic locking system. The clean efficiency of it all, compared to the rundown shabbiness of the mining town, sent a chill down her spine.

Her fellow captives didn’t seem worried; they alternated between adjusting their colorful scarves and whispering through the air holes in the wall between them. No guards were visible, but men and women with the pebbly gray skin of the local population walked back and forth in front of their cells, dressed in white uniforms that matched the back walls, floor and ceiling. No one paid Kasha any mind.

A stack of white clothing blended into the white bedspread, and a pair of white slippers sat on the floor below. She clenched her hands into fists and willed them to stop shaking. She was quickly building experience with different types of jails, and had learned from her own observations and prisoners’ gossip that the only cell more fearsome than one where you’re left to rot is one where you’re meant to _live_. Turning her back on the cot, Kasha went to the clear barrier and waved to get the nearest girl’s attention. When the girl looked her way, raising one red eyebrow, Kasha beckoned her closer.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Kasha asked in a low voice. “Why would they bring us here?”

The girl glanced between Kasha and her friend, with a bitter little laugh. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Kasha frowned, biting back a catty retort. She’d figured out enough: that her shabby clothes and the pale blue scarf around her neck had been enough to link her with these strangers.

“I can see there’s no point in arguing ‘wrong place, wrong time,’ and that this doesn’t look like any old holding cell,” Kasha continued softly. “But you don’t seem surprised. Spare me the song and dance. Just tell me what they’re going to do to us.”

The other two watched her solemnly. The closest finally shook her head and said, “Hopefully nothing. We just have to sit tight. Can you trust me on that?”

Kasha chewed the inside of her cheek. Two workers pushed a shiny silver cart past them, covered in strange metal objects; some were curved, and some looked very sharp. She nodded. “I trust you more than them.”

The hours crawled by. A woman went from cell to cell, asking them to lean up against the clear doors so she could measure their height, hands, and feet. The other two obeyed without complaint; Kasha followed their lead. She counted five other beings in nearby cells; they were already dressed in shapeless white clothes that probably matched those still stacked on Kasha’s bed.

She sat on the floor and took deep, measured breaths. Whenever someone bustled past, she waited for a door to open, to see how the locks worked, but no one entered or left the cells. An older man came down the hall and typed a series of commands into a hand-held device; a small section of her door opened inward like a tiny ledge. The man pushed in a small pouch of nutrient paste, and the second Kasha took it, the ledge folded back up like it was never there.

The paste was tan and tasteless. After watching the others try it first, she ate about half of it with a grimace, stuck the pouch in one of the provided slippers, and weighed her options. She didn’t know how to open the door, and had nothing with which to break it down. There had been an ominous lack of information given about when (or if) she would be allowed to leave. Dropping the stack of clothes onto the floor, Kasha lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, blinking back a sudden rush of tears.

Her only hope lay in trusting the troublemaker in the next cell, and the prospect was terrifying. _This must be just how Trek felt_ , she thought, and waited for sleep to come.

~~~

Kasha jerked awake, looking around in confusion as memories of the previous day came slowly back. At first she thought her dreams had woken her up, a sea of arms grabbing and shoving her around, but as she got her bearings she noticed a sharp tapping sound echoing around her.

The redhead was tapping against the clear wall between their cells. When she saw that Kasha was awake, she signaled to her friend and they both stood up. “Be ready,” she said, turning to face the sliding door at the end of the hallway. Kasha stretched and got slowly to her feet, eyeing the door, but nothing happened. She stood next to her bed and waited, adrenaline making her nerves sing. Glancing around a final time, she stooped down, grabbed a slipper off the floor, and stood again, clutching it tightly as she waited for something to happen. A muffled laugh from next door echoed oddly in the silent cells, but Kasha kept her focus on the door.

There was a deep rumbling sound, and another, getting closer. Kasha thought she felt the floor shake.

And finally, _finally_ the door slid open.

Terrified workers ran inside, tapping at monitors along the walls, arguing, shouting; one slapped a button next to the door, and an alarm began to wail. Kasha didn’t move; she waited breathlessly in her corner as the shriek of blaster fire filtered through the din.

A girl a few years older than Kasha appeared in the doorway, a bulky weapon in her arms. She fired it at the nearest workers; stretchy bands shot out and wrapped tightly around them. She began to herd her captives toward the far end of the hall, where they bumped into one another and fell to the floor. Several guards burst in behind her, followed by more women with blasters. One girl fired at a control panel near the door, and after several shots, it exploded in a shower of sparks. With a series of clicks, the cell doors swung open.

Kasha lunged forward as a guard blocked her doorway; as he made to grab her, she shoved the slipper up against his face. Half of the shoe went in his mouth; spluttering, the man twisted away and Kasha dropped to the floor, crawling out of the cell and scrambling for the exit. Another guard tripped over her; she rolled away from him, stood up, and ran right into Trek, who stared at her in shock.

“Did you just fight that guy off with a _shoe?_ ”

“Come on,” she gasped out, shoving him toward the door. They ran into the hallway, staying flat against the wall to avoid stray blasts and bindings. They had nearly reached the foot of a staircase when another explosion rocked the building. Everyone froze; slowly, they looked to the top of the stairs and found the source of the noise. A young woman stood on the top step, a hefty blue and silver blaster pointed up at a large hole in the ceiling. Wavy brown hair cascaded past her shoulders; a scar ran down the side of her smiling face, woven together with a tattoo of thorny vines. The few remaining guards put their hands in the air and dropped to their knees.

After sweeping the hall, the girl’s eyes fell on Kasha. Gesturing with her blaster, she said, “Let’s go,” and walked off. Chest heaving, heart racing, Kasha exchanged looks with a very shaken Trek, and together they followed her slowly up the steps.

~~~

The mysterious young women made their way up and out, Kasha and Trek trailing after them. Men and women in uniforms Kasha didn’t recognize swept in behind them, waving scanners and talking quietly into headsets. Their group walked along the dark filthy streets across town to a shabby dive bar at the local transit center. The girl with the tattoo tapped on a side door; it cracked open an inch, still chained, and she exchanged a few low words with the man inside. The door slammed shut, and they heard the chain fall away; a moment later the door opened wide and the man waved them inside. He raised an eyebrow at Trek and Kasha, but kept his thoughts to himself.

They walked single file down a narrow hallway, the sounds of the bar humming in the background. The girl waved them into a room where her friends dropped into chairs, watching them expectantly. There were five women in their group; in the thick of things, Kasha had thought there were several more. Trek sat on a battered stool by the door, looking relieved. Kasha was the last one in; she leaned against the door, crossed her arms, and waited.

The girl grinned at her. “Your friend told us you were tough,” she said, leaning casually against the room’s small table. “You seem to be taking this in stride. I’m impressed.”

Kasha didn’t smile back. “I have places to be. You get five minutes to explain what you’ve gotten me into.”

“Gotten you _out_ of,” the red-head cut in; their leader shook her head, and the girl fell silent, scowling.

“Let’s use our five minutes wisely, Verine,” she said, turning back to Kasha. “First things first: my name is Haze, and on some days my friends and I provide security for transport operations across the sector. On other days, we get called in for jobs when someone needs brains behind their hired muscle.”

“Who calls you in?” Kasha asked.

“Our contact in the New Republic.”

Kasha shook her head. “You expect me to believe that you’re in some secret government hit squad?”

Haze shrugged. “Believe what you want. You can’t deny that we sprang you from an illegal underground research facility half an hour ago.” Seeing Kasha tense up, she sighed and continued in a gentler tone. “People get arrested around here for bogus reasons and just disappear. At least ten travelers and homeless citizens have vanished from this moon in the last month.  And that’s just when outsiders started to notice; the locals aren’t talking. A few days ago, a homeless man who’d gone missing showed up in front of this bar, rambling about a big white room and creatures in masks.”

“He had a nasty virus; we think they let him go when they found out he was sick,” a girl with silver curls chimed in, and the others nodded.

“Our NR friend reached out to us, and we decided to set a trap,” Haze continued. “Verine and Io would make a scene to get their attention; they both have tracker implants, so we just had to wait and follow them to the secret facility. Everything went according to plan, until they decided to grab you for good measure.

She shrugged. “Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, you seem really broken up about it.”

“You were never in any real danger.” Haze tilted her head back and forth, considering. “Probably.”

Kasha didn’t have the energy to argue. She turned to Trek, who looked as exhausted as she felt. “Where did you find these guys?”

He looked sheepishly between Kasha and Haze. “They kinda found me.”

“Your friend here was making a scene, asking everyone he saw where they might have taken you,” Haze explained. “We pulled him aside before he caught the lab runners’ attention. He wouldn’t tell us who you were or what you were up to, but he agreed not to blow our operation if we promised to bring him with us when we rescued you.”

“He’s my sidekick,” Kasha said, raising her chin a little. “And my business is my own.”

“It’s hard to know who to trust these days,” Trek added as the girls chuckled. He smiled good-naturedly, kicking Kasha’s foot. She elbowed him back. “Yep, she does the thinking, I do the kicking. We’re taking the galaxy by storm.”

While the others laughed, Kasha got her first good look at Trek and gasped. “Your hand!” The swelling had gone down dramatically, and his battered hand was properly bandaged, with several fingers in splints.

“They took me to a medic while we waited for it to get dark. Got me patched up.” He grinned at Haze. “A nice gesture on their part, after all this trouble.”

Haze grinned back. “And now we’re even.” She stood and nodded to Verine. “I have to check in with our contact. Have some hot food and something to drink, on me. You can stay the night in here; someone will bring down a few blankets.” Murmuring her thanks, Kasha watched the two leave as the rest pulled out some plates and cups.

While their late night meal was assembled, Trek tipped his head at the door; taking the hint, Kasha followed him into the hall.

“I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” he said without preamble. “Sorry your plans keep getting derailed, but hey, this is a fresh chance, right? That’s something.”

“I’m kind of surprised you stuck around,” she said, and his face fell. “I mean, I’m _glad_ , of course I’m glad,” she added hastily, “and it’s great knowing someone has my back, but… you don’t owe me anything, and I’m not sure being friends with me is worth the trouble. Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time than deal with my problems?” she asked, suddenly nervous about what his answer would be.

He shrugged, watching a couple of servers sidle past holding heavy cookpots. “I know we’re practically strangers, but one thing you should know about me…” He met her eyes again. “I don’t bail.”

Kasha nodded. She let the silence build a moment as he chewed on his lip, clearly thinking hard.

“For a few months before you came around, I worked some jobs with a couple friends of mine: one was the scout, one was the muscle, and I’d make the grab. We had a good thing going, and we tried to keep a low profile. But someone must’ve been onto us, because that last job went bad from the start.” He took a deep breath, his eyes bright in the shadows. “I got caught with the goods, and my friends… they got away, and left me to face the hammer.”

Kasha felt nauseous; all she could do was nod.

“When I watched them drag you away…” He shook his head. “There was no way I was gonna leave you like they left me. And besides, I have deemed your cause worthy,” he added, with a shadow of his old smile. “So if you still want me around, I’ll help you see this thing through.”

She smiled back. “Sounds good to me.”

Verine stuck her head out the door and raised an eyebrow; Kasha assumed it was a reflex. “Food’s here,” she said, and went back inside.

Kasha and Trek joined the others at the crowded table and accepted small bowls of stew and chunks of brown bread. Trek fumbled with the spoon for a moment before getting a good hold and awkwardly scooping the stew into his mouth. Kasha watched from the corner of her eye, but knew better than to offer assistance. The girls finished quickly and headed upstairs to hunt for spare blankets. Kasha stirred her stew slowly as Trek scowled down at his bowl.

“You sure you want a sidekick this useless?” he asked softly, crumbling his bread into the last of his stew.

She waited until he met her eyes again. “We’ll manage.”

~~~

They parted ways with the crew after a quick breakfast. The girls on Haze’s team ducked in for a quick bite, nodded to their guests, and left. Kasha tried to help Verine stack their dishes, but was shooed toward the door, where Haze stood waiting. After making it through the night without any incidents, Kasha had quietly shared her story, and although Haze didn’t have any helpful information to share, she was willing to send them off with some supplies. She passed Kasha a small satchel and Trek a stack of credits, holding his good hand a bit longer than necessary.

“You handled yourselves pretty well last night,” Haze said, but her eyes were on Trek. “A bit rough around the edges, but we could use you on our team.”

Trek raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You shopping for damaged goods?”

“You could be a look out.” She smirked. “Or a doorstop.”

He laughed. “Wow, what an offer. Let me get back to you on that.”

“Take your time.”

They stood smiling at each other until Kasha bumped him with her shoulder.

“You can’t come back until we actually leave, so…” She widened her eyes at him; he rolled his in response. Kasha shook Haze’s hand one last time. “Thanks, for everything,” she said. “You guys do great work, but I’m _this_ close to the truth,” she added with feeling. “But after I find Theo, who knows. Maybe we’ll meet again, under better circumstances.”

Haze nodded. “We’ll be around. And if you’re in the sector and need a hand,” she added, raising an eyebrow at Trek, “Go to the Hub on the largest moon and ask for Sam. He can always get a message to us.

“And Kasha?” For the first time, she sounded uncertain. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. Or at least something you can live with.”

~~~

As they lined up for their transport, Kasha held out Trek’s boarding pass, pulling back as he reached out to take it. “Last chance to change your mind. I know Haze said we could both hang around, but I’m pretty sure the offer was meant for _you_ ,” she added slyly, and he shook his head, grinning.

“Hangin’ with a group of gorgeous hardcore lady mercenaries?” He shrugged carelessly, though his face was turning red. “I’ll pass.”

“Yeah, sounds terrible.”

“Nope, I’d much rather travel the universe with my pal Kasha, exploring the depths of its bureaucracy,” he added, gesturing grandly, and she laughed.

“I’m so glad I could share this journey with you,” she said with a smile, and hoped he knew how much she meant it.

* * *

 

“Are you kidding me?!”

The co-pilot shrugged, watching the other passengers shuffle off the transport.

 “But why do you land so far from the settlement’s center?” Kasha asked as the last of the passengers disembarked. “Where are all these people going?”

“Fuel costs,” the man said, his eyes skating away from hers. They watched an older man pull up the rear, step down onto the worn plastene platform, and follow the quiet crowd as it wove between the ramshackle structures of the outpost. “These folks work the fungi fields.” They heard the pilot shout something unintelligible from the cockpit, and the co-pilot hollered back, “Almost!”

“I need to get to get to an information center,” Kasha continued, refusing to budge even as he gestured impatiently toward the door. “And it is in the _center_ of-“

“No transports to the Inner Ring, just the Outer Ring as of last month,” he rattled off, patience clearly wearing thin. “Do your research next time. Now unless you want to fly off planet in an hour with the next load of cargo, I suggest you get off my ship.”

Kasha opened her mouth to argue, but Trek jumped in before she could get another word out. “And if we wanted to head to the Inner Ring, which way would we go?”

The co-pilot pointed, stone-faced, into the distance, where they could just see a communication tower through the haze. A rough footpath led into a sparse, scraggly forest. Trek nodded and gave the man what Kasha assumed was his ‘charm the authorities’ smile. “Thank you, Sir. You wouldn’t happen to have any extra supplies that could help us on our walk?”

“Get lost.”

Trek nodded again, widened his eyes at Kasha, and headed for the door. “Fair enough.”

~~~

Once she had stomped her way to edge of the outpost, Kasha let out frustrated groan. “I could see the city just ahead, and then he veered east! I could _strangle_ that guy.” She took several deep breaths and looked out where the man had pointed: she could just see the tower over the treetops of the forest between them and a chance at answers.

“It’s not ideal, but at least we know where to go,” Trek said, his own eyes following her gaze. “It’s still early; if we get moving, we might make it before that corporate liaison office closes.”

She turned away from their destination to meet his eyes, and took heart at the hope she saw there.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.” She tugged nervously at her scarf as she turned back toward the tower. “Let’s go?”

Trek clapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

And off they went, always keeping the tower in sight, through the strange, sparse forest. The level terrain made the journey easy enough, but the occasional rock and spiky plant made them pick up their feet. The trees grew fairly far apart, giving them plenty of room to walk but providing little shade. Their orange, waxy leaves shone in the morning light; Kasha was careful not to touch them.

“Theo wouldn’t believe this,” she said softly after they’d walked for a while, breaking their companionable silence. She stepped around another spiky plant; she could feel her poor slippers wearing thin. “We’ve spent our whole lives in cities. I didn’t know trees even _came_ in this color.”

Trek looked at her askance. “Sounds like your bar for natural wonders is set pretty low,” he said, hopping over a rock. “There are some really amazing worlds out there, and plenty with plants that are a lot less likely to kill you than these prickly monsters.”

Kasha huffed out a laugh as she gave another spiky plant a wide berth. “I wouldn’t mind going somewhere with flowers. _Nonlethal_ flowers,” she amended, and Trek laughed.

After a beat of silence, Trek asked, “Where do you think you’ll go? After you find out what happened.”

She shrugged and looked away. “I’m sure Theo will have some ideas,” she said softly, returning her attention to the path in front of her and missing the look of worry on his face. “He always knows what to do.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t quite the triumphant entrance she’d imagined over the last week, daydreaming in her jail cells about finally reaching her destination. But as they staggered into the business district that afternoon, filthy and exhausted from their long walk, Kasha held her head high and ignored the confused and downright hostile looks the people on the street sent their way. Trek took a swig from his canteen and sighed.

“Do you know where I can refill this?” he asked a man striding past them. The stranger scowled and walked faster.

“Nice place,” Trek observed as several other well-dressed locals gave them a wide berth.

“Let’s just find the office and get out of here,” Kasha muttered, stopping to lean against a wall and pull a rock from her slipper. “Assuming they let us in. Do you see anywhere we could wash up?”

Trek glanced around, and his face brightened. He waved her over as he followed a short alley off the main road to what may have once been a small urban garden. A spigot stood in the center over a dry, cracked basin, looking rather out of place hidden between clean, functional buildings. The handle had been wrenched off and was nowhere to be found.

“Worth a shot,” Trek said, swatting ineffectually at his dusty shirt and pants. Kasha sighed and smoothed a hand over her head to check that her scarf was still in place. At least her hair wouldn’t be dusty.

“Never mind, let’s just… find the right office,” she said, patting nervously at her own dirty leggings. After walking another block, she spotted a small but bustling café wedged between an office and a tailor’s shop. “Maybe someone in there knows,” she murmured. Straightening her shoulders, Kasha headed for the door, joining the line behind several older men in fine suits. After the men made their way inside, an employee appeared at the door, barring Kasha’s way. “I’m afraid we’re out of room,” he said briskly, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should try somewhere else.”

“Oh,” was all Kasha could say, completely taken aback. “I only wanted-“

“Have a nice day,” he said, and shut the door firmly in her face.

Kasha blinked a few times, spun slowly in place, and walked in a daze toward Trek, whose jaw had dropped.

“What’s _his_ problem?”

“Me, I guess,” Kasha said, biting the inside of her cheek. She turned to walk away, but quickly realized they had nowhere to go.

“They don’t serve roughs.”

Kasha and Trek whipped around and found themselves facing another alley, where two dusty boys were watching them.

Kasha felt her face heat up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They only let Corp guys in,” the taller of the two clarified. “You’re wearin’ the wrong clothes for that place.”

Kasha sighed, feeling suddenly bone-tired. “Great.”

“Stubs?” the smaller boy asked.

“Stub what?” Trek looked at Kasha, who shook her head.

The boy who first spoke reached into his bag and pulled out a sickly green fruit. “We’re sellin’ stubs. Want one?” When all he got was blank looks, the boy frowned and pointed at the narrow end of the fruit. “You bite it and suck out the juice. You thirsty?”

Farther down the alley, Kasha noticed a couple of people in drab clothes doing just that, and decided to take the risk; at this point in the day, being poisoned would be an improvement. “We’ll take two.”

The boys brightened at that, and after negotiating the price, they handed Trek and Kasha a stub apiece. Kasha bit gently into the end; the flavor was bitter and bright, but mellowed as the juice began to flow. An old woman walked up while they were drinking their juice and bought a stub for herself. When they had wrung the odd fruit dry, Trek tossed aside the last bit of skin with a contented sigh, and Kasha reluctantly followed suit.

“Thank you,” she told the boys, who smiled up at her. “I was just going in there to ask a question,” she added, tipping her head toward the café. “I need to find a liaison office for a company,” she continued, pronouncing the name slowly. “Do you know where it is?”

“No,” the older boy said, and her heart sank.

“But our Uncle might.”

~~~

Their Uncle turned out to be one of several hard looking men standing idle in the main square. He had sharp eyes and scarred hands, and was the last person Kasha wanted to ask for directions, but she did so anyway, polite and direct. She waited with her hands gripped behind her back as he looked between her and Trek, then down at the boys, who shrugged. The man looked back at Kasha and pointed to his left; it was the opposite direction from where they’d come, but the street looked exactly the same: dark, bland, and functional.

“They should be open another hour,” he said, describing the building so they would spot it. “Ask what you need to ask, then get moving. This isn’t a place you folks wanna be.”

“Well gee,” Trek cut in, “everyone’s been so friendly, it’ll be hard to drag ourselves away.”

No one laughed.

Kasha thanked the boys and tugged at Trek’s elbow. “Thank you, Sir. We’ll do just that.”

The boys waved as they turned toward the right street. She could feel the eyes of those men on the back of her neck the entire way.

~~~

Pushing open the sleek door and waiting for an available representative seemed rather anticlimactic after all they’d been through, but Kasha still felt a surge of adrenaline with every step closer they got to the front of the line. She focused on not bouncing in place, crushing the hem of her tunic between her fingers. With shaking hands, she finally pulled out her pouch necklace and gave the man behind the counter a tentative smile. He didn’t smile back.

“Name,” he asked, tapping briskly at the buttons on his work station. His dark hair was combed straight back, and shone in the room’s harsh lighting. His gray eyes flashed as he looked at the two IDs in her hand.

“My name is Kasha,” she said clearly, holding up the first card, then the second. Willing her voice not to shake, she continued, “and I’m looking for my brother.”

This was it: the big moment where she would get her answer. It had gone so many ways in her head as she had fretted and searched, but what she hadn’t imagined was the man’s face going carefully blank as he handed back the cards. “This man was arrested two weeks ago and his file has been classified. That’s all I can say at this time.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but it was a moment before she could form any words. “But… I’m his _family_.” The IDs clenched tightly in her hand began cutting into her palm, but she could hardly feel it. “And it’s got to be a mistake, he wouldn’t- please, can’t you tell me where he’s being held, or what I can do to- to help get him released?”

The clerk’s eyes were slowly filling with pity, and Kasha was suddenly furious: at the First Order, at whomever got Theo caught up in this mess, at all the doors that had been slammed in her face, at this man for looking at her like she was pathetic.

“His file is classified. There are no annotations for friends or family. It would be best…” The man cleared his throat. “Our office is closing soon. It would be best for you to move along.”

She swayed on the spot and felt a hand gently grip her shoulder. “Yeah, so we’ve heard,” Trek said, his voice rough. “Thanks for your time.” He steered Kasha to the door and led her outside, ignoring the people they shouldered past as her vision swam.

There were more people on the street now, some strolling, some rushing past them, but all Kasha could see were pitying gray eyes. Trek tried to lead her to a stone bench, but Kasha kept walking, picking a direction at random since she’d long since lost her bearings.

She stuffed the IDs back into their pouch, cursing as she nearly dropped them. “We’ll just come back tomorrow, and talk to someone else. Maybe ask for his boss.” Most of the people around them were heading in the same direction, and she allowed them to sweep her along, stomping her anger into the dusty ground.

Trek kept glancing at the crowd, his face pinched with worry and exhaustion. “How ‘bout we find someplace to hunker down for the night, and talk it over tomorrow?”

“I’m not giving up.” She shook her head, cursing the dust for making her eyes water. “That _can’t_ be it.”

He didn’t look reassured. “Okay, but-“

“Maybe we could…break into the office, when they’re all gone for the night. Or find a way to bribe them, or trick them into admitting what happened. There _has_ to be-“

“Kasha!”

“ _What?_ ” She looked at him squarely and was startled to see fear in his eyes. She took another look around and noticed the crowd’s rough clothing and grim faces. The streets had filled quickly, and they were almost at the square where they’d gotten directions.

A man to her left pulled his black scarf up to cover his face.

This was not good.

“Trek?”

She reached blindly for him and ended up grabbing the side of his shirt. When she stepped closer, he said tightly, “Walk, don’t run, but keep moving ‘til we’re out of this.” She nodded and followed as he ambled along with the crowd but slightly to the right, getting them closer to the edge of the crowd before they reached the square. Several men stood on top of a ruined fountain at its center, their faces similarly covered.

“We told them what would happen if they didn’t listen,” the one in the middle called out, and the crowd rumbled in response. People scowled as they continued walking; Kasha fought to keep her face blank as nerves and anger roiled inside her.

“Water is a _basic human right_ ,” he went on, and the crowd cheered. “They can’t just keep ignoring the problem and wait for it to go away. And wait for _us_ to go away. ‘Cause _we’re_ not going _anywhere_.”

It was getting harder to move as more and more people pushed their way into the square. They were only halfway to the nearest side road; Trek was looking paler by the second, but he pressed gamely on, even as their progress slowed to a crawl.

“They cut off our transports and comms without warning. When the rations _finally_ show up, we always get the short end of the stick. They want to keep this quiet,” he said, his voice carrying over the massive crowd, “but we won’t be quiet any longer.”

He raised a fist in the air, and the crowd roared.

They were almost to the side street.

Then the people around them surged forward, and they were swept along once again as the mob began to march down the main avenue, fists and voices raised as the sunset bathed them all in blood.

~~~

Kasha held tightly to Trek’s arm, doing her best to stay standing as the crowd bumped her roughly and stepped on her aching feet. Trek leaned into her, still valiantly trying to push them out of the crowd, but it was hard to tell which way led to safety as the mob pushed closer. A window to their left shattered, showering them with glass, and they struggled to avoid the shards at their feet. As she stumbled along, struggling to breathe, Kasha had a vision of herself lying trampled in the street and pushed harder.

 _We’re getting out of here,_ she chanted silently. _We’re getting out of here, we just have to-_

The sharp sound of blasters rang out, and pale forms began to take shape in the distance.

“St-“ Kasha coughed, “Stormtroopers?!” She turned to look at Trek, and saw her own terror mirrored in his face. As one, they pushed through the crowd with renewed energy, away from the blasts. The crowd was losing focus, and as more people realized who had joined them on the street, they tried to take off in every direction, shouts drowning out the chanting as they struggled in search of safety.

Trek stumbled, and Kasha pulled him to his feet with his bad arm, feeling a stab of guilt in her stomach when he grimaced. “There,” he groaned, pointing with his good hand to a supply depot with a broken window. They fought their way over and jumped in after two teenagers, who eagerly grabbed some sleek tool kits and ran back out into the fray. Kasha and Trek moved away from the window, weaving around displays until they could get to a far corner of the room. They sank onto the floor, gasping for breath, the screaming and blaster fire echoing around them. Kasha squeezed her eyes shut, realized that only made it worse, and reluctantly opened them again. At least five pairs of eyes stared back.

They weren’t alone.

Trek saw where she was looking and breathed in sharply. For a long moment no one said a word. It was hard to make out in the shadows, but the people in the other corner looked either much older or younger than the pair of them. A woman with brown braids streaked with silver raised a shaking hand; Kasha raised hers in return. Trek pressed his shoulder against hers and nodded to the others. The boy at the woman’s feet, maybe seven years old, hid his face in her skirt.

No one spoke. Kasha was grateful; reluctant to explain why they were there or risk giving away their hiding spot, she tried to make herself comfortable in their corner as the minutes crawled by.

 _Where are you, Theo?_ she wondered miserably, flinching as the wall behind her shook. _What do I do now?_ Trek laid a heavy hand on her shoulder; as the noise of the riot grew more distant, exhaustion overtook her, and she sank into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Tonight’s cell was crowded.

After they had been discovered and ‘rescued’ by local police, they were promptly arrested for looting and hauled off to the local jail. Everyone who had attempted to take cover in the business district during the riot must have shared the same fate, because nearly every cell was packed with men, women, and children, and more were arriving all the time.

With her clothes and her complexion, Kasha knew she stood out, and didn’t begrudge the other inmates their looks of confusion and distrust. After an hour or two of standing close to Trek to give the others space, the woman in braids drifted over and introduced herself as Pomona.

“What are you doing here?” she asked without malice, only exhausted curiosity. “No one from the outside has been to the Inner Ring in weeks, except company men.”

“I’m looking for my brother,” Kasha said, the words sounding as rehearsed as they felt. “His employee files were transferred to the databank here, probably because, like you said, no one sane would come looking for them.” She sighed, trying her best not to slump into the people around her. “And after coming all this way, they wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“What division did he work for?” a woman with shaggy dark hair asked, exchanging nervous looks with Pomona. Kasha told her, and the woman’s frown deepened. “When did he go missing?”

Kasha felt hope flare in her chest even as alarm bells rang in the back of her mind. With shaking hands she pulled the pouch from beneath her tunic and showed them Theo’s ID.

“He was on a team of mechanics, he- he worked on wheels and landing gear,” Kasha stammered, struggling to breathe as the women whispered to each other. “His teammates were Sanjay, and Rex…”

The woman whispered once more in Pomona’s ear, crossed her arms, and looked away. Kasha was dimly aware of Trek’s hand on her shoulder. Pomona took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh.

“The First Order has Troopers in orbit and keeps surplus supplies in the Outer Ring. That’s how they were able to respond so quickly tonight. They have a heavy yet invisible presence here, and we hear things… stories they’d rather not get around. I hate that you have to hear this from me.” She shook her head. “Several arrests have been made recently, people suspected of working for the Resistance. My nephew got caught up in a sweep last month. But a couple of work teams… the charges were more serious, and when faced with imprisonment and torture…when they were prepped for transport, those teams fought back. And went down fighting.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” she said sadly, as the room began to spin. “Your brother’s gone.”

* * *

 

Hours passed. To no one’s surprise, they weren’t offered any water. But Kasha didn’t notice her growing thirst, or the cold floor, or the smell of the overcrowded room. She sat with her head on her knees, unsure if she’d ever be able to move again.

Unease hung heavily in the stale air. Pomona occasionally rubbed her back, and she heard Trek shift restlessly next to her, but she ignored them. The memory of blaster fire rang in her ears, and Theo’s face flashed before her eyes, smiling, laughing, as she hugged her knees and wept.

“You know,” Kasha croaked out after a while, “I worked in a factory, before all this. Droids would press soaps and fancy oils, and we girls would put them in boxes and bottles and tie on pretty ribbons.” She sighed. “Why did I think I could solve anything? All I know how to do is tie fancy bows. I should’ve stayed home.”

She felt a tentative hand on her shoulder. “I am so sorry, Kasha,” Trek said, soft and sad. “And I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we’ve got to get out of here.”

It was all she could do to keep breathing, in and out, through her mouth. She didn’t lift her head, only said brokenly, “Weren’t you listening? It’s over. He’s…gone. There’s nowhere else to go.”

The hand left her shoulder. She felt him shift to sit beside her. “Kasha…”

She rested her cheek against her knee; tears pooled against the bridge of her nose. “I did everything I could, looked everywhere, and still...” She sighed. “I can’t believe I thought this would work.”

“It did, though,” Trek said gently. “You didn’t give up until you found your answer, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted.”

“So what next?” she asked, focusing on a point over his shoulder so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. “I left my job, my family is gone, and I’m stuck in another stupid cell. How could we _possibly_ make this better?”

“Things can always get better,” he added thoughtfully, watching a pair of guards stroll by.

“They can always get worse, too.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Well, are you going to just sit around and wait and see?” He leaned into her line of sight, and she saw a ghost of his former smile curl his mouth. “I didn’t think that was your style.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m all out of style, and ideas, and pretty much anything that might help us.”

Trek just shrugged. “We’ll manage.”

 

~~~

While Kasha sat and stared at the swirls in the dirt at her feet, Trek softly filled her in on the unsettling gossip he’d heard from the other prisoners.

The last group of locals locked up for the night had overheard more stories that reinforced Trek’s wariness: that bad things were in store for them after the last of the actual rioters had been rounded up. That they were all to be fined, jailed, deported, or worse. It seemed that the companies who had headquarters on this moon, and the First Order agents who used them as a front to store sensitive information, were tired of dealing with the locals and might be preparing to have the Inner Ring all to themselves.

When Trek paused, watching her expectantly, Kasha met his eyes and gave a small nod.

“Most of that is probably true. Not that we can do anything about it.”

“There’s always _something_ ,” he said vehemently, his eyes glowing in the gloom. “Pomona’s checking around for spaces we could widen and crawl through. I’ve been checking the bars for weak spots-“

“Which we could break through with what?” came Pomona’s harsh whisper from their left. “Keep your voice down, boy.” She sighed. “There are a couple tiny windows near the ceiling, but nothing a person could get through. The only way out is through the cell door.”

“Which they have to open eventually, right?” Trek asked? “They haven’t given us water yet, but they’ll have to start giving people breaks for, y’know…”

Pomona shook her head. “There’s a pot in the corner, if you’re desperate.” She glanced at her shaggy-haired friend, who was comforting a pair of nervous boys, then back at Trek. “Being thirsty makes us weak,” she said sadly. “Less likely to fight back when they come for us in the morning.”

“We need to give them a reason to open the door.” Trek rubbed tiredly at the stubble on his chin. “What if we faked a fight? Would they come in to break it up?”

A teenage girl nearby scoffed. “They’d probably just stun you through the bars.” Trek scowled at her, before nodding reluctantly. He cradled his injured hand to his chest and sank in on himself, thinking hard.

Kasha stared at his bandaged hand and sat up straighter. “What if…” the others turned her way, “what if one of us was hurt, and needed help?”

“That might work,” Pomona said slowly. “But who? Not me; they wouldn’t storm in to help an old woman.”

The girl shoved her bangs out of her eyes and pointed at Trek. “He already looks hurt.” Kasha turned to him expectantly, but Trek only laughed.

“You’d think they’d storm in to help a banged up foreign guy? Please.”

The chatter around them was low, but still sang with tension. A child’s cry rang through the room, and was quickly silenced. Kasha’s eyes widened as a plan flashed through her mind.

“We need your help,” Kasha said firmly, looking between Pomona and the girl. “Try to find a few strong folk to stand ready when the door opens, okay?” The other two nodded, listening hard. “Then I need you to find the youngest-looking person in our cell and bring them closer to the bars.”

 

~~~

They waited for a few more guards to head home for the night. When the last pair headed upstairs to make their rounds, leaving their final man in a chair by the door, they waited with baited breath for him to get comfortable and for the others to get farther away. Kasha focused on her chapped lips, her sore feet, anything to distract herself from the fear and grief at war inside her heart. _One step at a time,_ she thought, watching Trek as he seemingly lounged against the bars, his face tense with anticipation.

After a moment more, Kasha tugged on Pomona’s tunic. A few seconds later, a child screamed.

The guard jolted in his chair as if electrified, and stood, peering into the offending cell with one hand on his blaster. People tried to shuffle and give them space, but it wasn’t easy; through a forest of limbs the guard could make out a teenage girl kneeling over a much smaller girl, both in shabby tunics and lacking shoes. The child gasped and flailed on the floor, while the older girl held her down and cried, “Wake up, wake up!”

“What’s going on in there?” The guard asked. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, this has never- please, you have to help her!” The girl babbled, turning her tearstained face toward the bars.

“Potential code yellow down here,” the guard said, flipping a switch on his helmet. “Instructions?”

The guard stood a moment, waiting. The child thrashed again, and the other girl sobbed.

“Instructions?” The crowd shifted a bit as several people peered over in concern.

“Please,” the girl cried, “she needs a med-droid, or water, or _something_.”

The guard flipped the switch back with a sigh and walked over to the cell door. “Get her over to the door.”

“I don’t think I can carry her,” the girl stammered, looking nervously toward where Pomona sat hidden; she pointed to her head. “She might hit her head or something.”

“Then someone else bring her over.”

“What if she’s contagious?” a man asked, and everyone shrank back from the pair on the floor. The girl wailed and held the child’s hand as she trembled and began to cough.

“Oh, for the love of-“ He stomped over to the door pointed a furious finger at those nearest the door. “Back up. If a single one of you steps out of line, the guys upstairs will be here before you can blink.”

He waited for them to comply; everyone shuffled over as best they could, and the guard opened the door and stepped warily inside, blaster drawn. He didn’t notice the man behind him until he’d been wrapped in a headlock; a second man yanked the blaster from his hand, and in a moment the guard was slumped unconscious on the floor.

A few quiet cheers echoed around the cell as they helped the girls to their feet. The people in the other cells watched in silence. Kasha darted over to the guard and grabbed the keys where they’d fallen on the floor. She followed the stream of people into the hallway, motioned for everyone to stay quiet, and went over to the next cell door, with Trek at her heels.

The man nearest the door watched her, stone faced, as she put in the key.

“Who’s to say they don’t just kill us the moment we reach the main floor?” he asked, eyes hard.

Kasha focused on opening the door, pulled it slowly open, then faced him squarely. “You don’t have to come,” she said as people cautiously headed for the door, listening hard for more guards. “But I’m not waiting around to find out what they’re planning next.”

One by one, she opened the doors. They were surprisingly quiet for such a large group, watching and listening with a mixture of fear and excitement on their faces.

“Which way?” she asked Trek softly as they headed up to the main floor.

“The way the hall twisted, I’m sure there’s a back way out,” he whispered back, pointing to the left when they reached a hallway that forked. No alarms sounded, and no guards blocked their path.

“Look for something that can pry it open, then something heavy to block it once we’re out,” Trek muttered to himself as they came in sight of the door. Kasha’s heart sank: it wasn’t a regularly used exit, but a sort of service door with a strange closing mechanism.  As Trek leaned in for a closer look, Kasha asked those nearest her to look around for tools that could help get it open. They heard a low humming sound from outside, and suddenly Trek sprang back, his eyes wide.

The door began to glow along the edges. As the murmurs of the crowd became more frantic, the door swung silently open, a woman with blue hair and goggles framed in the opening, a torch in her hand.

Trek’s jaw dropped.

She turned off the torch and grinned. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

Turning to look at Kasha, Haze shook her head. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

* * *

 

“So…”

“So you’re welcome.” Haze smiled at Trek’s exasperated look, the vines on her face curving. “Oh, was that not a thank you?”

They stood on a dark street, while the girls on Haze’s team, all in matching blue wigs, helped the other prisoners out the door and explained their options.

“What are you doing here?” Kasha asked softly.

Glancing between them, Haze murmured, “We can’t talk here, but I’ll explain everything on board.”

“More than half are staying,” Verine cut in, walking over with the other girls. “The ones that decided to head for the Outer Ring are going back for supplies; I told them our timetable.”

Haze nodded. “Good. Let’s move out.”

They made their way quietly to the edge of town, wary of every shifting shadow. When they were safely on board Haze’s concealed ship, the crew settled in to wait for their passengers. Haze led Kasha and Trek over to the cargo hold; once they had found a stack of crates to lean against and wait, Kasha turned to Haze for an explanation.

“Our contact got word of the unrest in the Inner Ring weeks ago, and we’ve been ready to mobilize if things got out of hand. We got the call last night, and were told to intervene. Imagine our surprise,” she added slyly, “when we distracted the guards and put our escape plan into play only to find the prisoners halfway out on their own, with you two in the lead.”

Trek shrugged. “I surprise myself sometimes. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Turning to Kasha, apparently done with Trek’s nonsense, Haze continued. “I’d like to hear how it all went down. If you had told us you were trying to break into the Inner Ring and squeeze intel from First Order-backed bureaucrats, I would have told you not to waste your time, but what do I know?” She crossed her arms and shifted so a rope wasn’t digging into her back. “How did you even get here? They haven’t allowed non-Company transports to the Inner Ring-“

“In weeks,” Kasha finished tiredly. “So we heard. To be honest, the walk wouldn’t have been as bad if I had packed better shoes.” She wiggled her aching toes. “Do you have any extra pairs in my size?”

Haze gaped at her. “You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, her voice filled with admiration.

Kasha lifted a shoulder, her eyes on her feet. “You’ve seen where it gets me: kicked out of the liaison office, nearly trampled in a riot, and thrown in jail. If you hadn’t shown up, _again,-_ “

“I have a feeling you’d have figured something out,” Haze cut in thoughtfully. She paused, then asked, “Did you find your answer?”

Kasha nodded, raising her eyes and willing herself not to cry. Haze nodded back; there was no pity in her gaze, only respect and understanding.

“I’m glad. It hurts, but it’s better to know.” Glancing at Trek, she added, “You’re both welcome to stay as long as you need to. When you decide on your next move, we’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Trek rubbed the back of his neck, his earlier confidence gone. “We’re kind of… out of moves at the moment. Hate for you to take on extra passengers when it’s already gonna be crowded-“

“I quit my job when I left the station,” Kasha added bluntly, cutting off Trek’s nervous rambling. “Local girls were lined up to take my spot, they weren’t about to hold it for me.” She sighed, looking down at her shoes, then back up, forcing herself to look Haze in the eye. “I don’t have anywhere to go. Unless you know any factories that are hiring?”

There was a moment of silence; Haze watched her thoughtfully as they heard the sounds of other passengers filing in. Io’s voice carried over the noise, telling them where to go and where to put their bags.

“A textile plant in the next system needs new blood in their quality control center,” Haze said finally, and Trek’s face fell. “Or…” She looked between them, at Kasha’s resigned face and Trek’s hopeful one. “We could use someone like you on our team,” she continued, facing Kasha, who looked doubtful. “A girl who stands up for herself, who helps others when it hurts and doesn’t give up, is always welcome,” she bumped Trek’s shoulder, “and her sidekick, too.”

Trek gave her his most charming smile, then turned to Kasha with a more hesitant one. She looked between them, waiting for someone to start laughing and declare the whole thing a joke. They just smiled as they waited for her decision, shining with confidence and hope.

Kasha nodded, then stood up straighter, nodding again. “If you’re serious… It would be an honor to join your team.” Beaming, Haze extended a hand, which Kasha shook gratefully. “And I guess Trek can be our mascot or something.”

Laughing, Trek slung an arm around each of their shoulders. “How could I say no to _that_? Do we get matching jackets?”

Haze shook her head, grinning, but didn’t pull away. “All of our gear is military surplus, so matching is non-negotiable.”

Kasha couldn’t help it; she laughed along with them, even though her heart ached.

Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “Where to next?”


	2. Epilogue

“Well, _that_ might be a problem.”

Kasha peered around Trek from where he’d stopped in the middle of the bustling market. Local guards and a couple of Stormtroopers were watching everyone who left through the main gate, and questioning anyone in foreign dress. Kasha bit her lip and looked around in search of options, grateful that Trek’s height hid her from view.

Trek was pretending to study a wall of brightly colored discs for sale. He rubbed his hand across his jaw, his eyes distant. “If we could steal a key card, then I could break into their office and find us a couple of officer uniforms…”

But Kasha shook her head, her eyes on a mound of fabric between two booths. “I’ve got a better idea.”

~~~

“This is humiliating.”

“Well, now you know how the locals feel.”

They were shuffling slowly down a side street, heads down and wrapped in yards and yards of soft fabric, dyed the deep green that was currently fashionable among the city’s middle class women. Only the top halves of their faces were visible to passers-by. A few women in similar dress murmured polite greetings as they passed, to which Kasha responded in kind, but otherwise they were ignored completely.

Kasha kept an eye out for local law enforcement, counting the buildings they passed to keep track of their progress. “As long as we don’t make eye contact, we’ll be invisible.”

She knew that Trek was too tall and she was too tan, but somehow they flowed along with the crowd at the other women’s sedate pace, getting steadily closer to the smaller gate Haze had described that morning in their briefing. Kasha finally spotted it between a pile of broken pottery and a potted palm: the gate women used to access a discrete well. She reached for the handle-

But another hand got there first.

Holding her breath, Kasha turned slowly toward the stranger, struggling to think up an explanation.

It was a woman swathed in much shabbier fabric; she had stepped forward, eyes lowered, to hold the door for them.

Kasha murmured a formal thank you and walked calmly through the gate, hoping Trek was still following; her range of vision was limited to what lay straight ahead. She heard the gate close. After walking a bit further and not seeing any other women, Kasha made an abrupt turn and followed the market wall a ways until they were shrouded by trees and old speeder parts.

Turning, she gave a sigh of relief at the sight of Trek’s wide blue eyes. As he pulled the green fabric away from his face, he asked, “Do you still have it?”

Kasha nodded, tugging off her own disguise to show him her pouch necklace, which contained the data they’d been sent to retrieve. Once their outfits had been put to rights, they folded up the yards of fabric; after a moment’s thought, Kasha hung them on a tree branch so they wouldn’t get too dirty.

“If we keep following the wall in this direction,” Kasha said, retying her scarf over her hair as she pointed, “we should get back to the main gate and hopefully blend into the crowd.”

Trek nodded. “Let’s go.”

~~~

Haze had arranged transport for the pair of them on the outskirts of the village. Back on board the ship, Trek recounted their adventures to the other women while Haze and Kasha checked the data they’d brought back. It was the real deal.

“Good work,” Haze muttered, eyes scanning the maps and numbers that shimmered before her. “Now comes the fun part.”

“That wasn’t the fun part?” Kasha asked, taking a swig of water from her canteen. “It was a pretty nice marketplace, until the gate guards started showing people holos of my face. Trek and I bought matching armbands.”

Haze chuckled, glancing down at the pretty blue band that matched the scarf around Kasha’s hair.

“Very fashionable. But now we need to get the data into the right hands. After we stop to refuel, we’ll be heading one way, to check in with our contact and plan our next mission, and you two,” she added, smiling, “will take the data to the people who need it.”

Kasha raised an eyebrow. “And who are these people exactly?”

~~~

They landed on a heavily forested planet, at an old but bustling fueling station. After going over the plan one more time, they headed into town.

Leaving the others to gather supplies in the village square, Kasha and Trek made their way down a gravel path to the outskirts of town. There, where the path ended and the foothills began, was a squat pub with a mix of landspeeders and local animals out front, right where Haze said it would be. Kasha stopped at the door, took a breath, and went inside.

The place was practically empty; just a knot of locals chatting with the barkeep, noses quivering as they chirped and laughed, and two men with their heads together at a table in the corner.

Trek went up to the bar and bought them drinks while Kasha stood at his shoulder, feigning boredom. She watched as the dark-skinned man said something to his friend, causing the other man to laugh; he had warm brown eyes and an easy smile. Even as he gave his cheerful reply, Kasha saw his eyes dart across the room, and she knew their presence had been noted.

Drinks in hand, they headed for the back; pretending to notice the men for the first time, Trek asked, “Mind if we join you? Why take up another table when we can make some new friends?”

The second man shrugged, running a hand through his curly hair, while the first looked back and forth between them. “What’s the magic word?”

“Haze sent us,” Trek murmured, and the man nodded. They set down their drinks and took their seats as the four of them sized each other up.

Kasha broke the silence. “So do we use real names, or are yours classified?”

The second man chuckled. “If we’re going to be working together, we should know each other’s names. It makes things easier. I’m almost shocked you don’t recognize this guy; he’s practically the face of the Resistance,” he added in a low voice, elbowing his friend, who elbowed him right back. “He’s kind of a big deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the kind of story I call 'Canon Adjacent', something that could be happening in the background without affecting the main story's continuity. It's been a fun writing challenge to imagine new corners of the SW universe. If you're interested in another example, feel free to check out We Can Be Heroes, my 'Avengers Adjacent' story. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and have an awesome day!


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